Okay GLED I left this comment on my blog on the entry entitled.. (you will NEVER guess, ohmylikegod!) "WITH HOLD."
"NO! I WANT TO HEAR MORE! TELL ME BOUT THE IRISH MAN AND THE VALIUM LADY AND MOST OF ALL ABOUT THE WORST DAYS. I WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THE WORST DAYS SO I CAN MAKE THEM FLUORESCENT. IT IS MY NEW FLASHLIGHT SCIENCE PROJECT. YOUR MISERY IS MY EXPLOITATION."
22 January 2007 08:28
Okay, to Ivy and all of you attentionally challenged who have heard me mention Valium Marilyn: let me explain here who she is.
Marilyn is my dear friend. I only found out about a month ago that she actually is of pensionable age; ie well over 60. As I did say somewhere before: she takes her false teeth OUT and puts her reading glasses ON before toking a pipe of crack cocaine...
I call her Marilyn because if you imagined Marilyn Monroe, not dead, aged 60+ with the same blonde hair/ blue-green eyes - and yet transformed somehow into a London cockney with extraordinarily brash voice plus addicted to Valium, temazepam, anything else that knocks you out enough to have you wobbling this way and that across the London pavements... then you have Valium Marilyn. She can be VERY LOUD INDEED. 1. because she has an exceedingly loud voice and 2. because she is most probably half deaf.
Okay, Ivy. The Irish guy I mentioned in your comments box (we were talking about embarrassing behaviour) is one called Jimmy who used to hang out with me occasionally when I was a beggar. He took up spot begging for a week. Got loads of money (beginner's luck). I told him it wouldn't last. And sure enough, don't know what it is in that "profession"... do you lose your freshness? Don't know. But after about a week of daily doing this his earnings dried up from an easy £10-£20 in an hour or two to next to nothing so he gave up. But the specific embarrassing escapade in question involved him opening a black plastic-wrapped white rock of crack on the bus in full view of several scandalized of the travelling public. Upon pointing this out to said Irish Jimmy, he just said "Oh, [vulgar language] them." So there you have THAT.
On to dreams: dream 1: I dreamt I was in my blogger friend Ruth's garden. (See Ruth's garden - to the right.) It was an enormous park-sized garden, fabulously planted. Probably what Ruth would have if she were a billionaire. In the middle of said garden was a marquee, so sturdy that the central top "beam" of this tent contained a caffeteria IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SCAFFOLING POLE... This coffeeshop was exceedingly popular, full of middle-aged couples having cream teas over the spectacularly planted endlessly rolling parkland of Ruth's garden below. (This is a dream, so you can be inside a tent and yet over the parkland at the same time, just gimme a break on that one, okay??!) I don't know what this dream could mean... Ruth? Anyone? Any ideas... Just my mind playing out in my sleep, I'd s'pose... And I do know quite a LOT about Ruth's garden. You can too, she's online in my links for all to see...
Dream #2 seems to be more meaningful. I seem to have had this dream possibly twice. In this dream I am in prison, but I am a bird (ie. a small seagull/arctic tern type of bird). The window of the prison is open, but there is someone standing by it half blocking the way... if only I wanted to get out. Eventually I do fly out of the window, only to be shot down in my left wing by a prison guard... I go circling down and down and eventually land on the heavily fortified PRISON BEACH. (I've dreamt more than a couple of times about a prison that encompasses a beach.) And then the dream ends with me walking across the sands... I seem to recollect, as a human being. But I'm still in prison...
Has anyone an interpretation for me?
Bearing in mind that I'm a hapless heroin junkie and have been for over seven years the symbolism of open window (easy escape) seems to me obvious... but the being shot down = the reality of my repeated relapse and failure. And human, during the waking day, I'm still in the prison of my addiction.
RUBY RED TUESDAY - More participants here
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